"The potentialities of humor as a circulation agency," opined Severance in his smoothest academic voice, "have never been properly exploited." "A laugh on every page where there ain't a thrill," pursued Sheffer confidently. "You find some of our pages dull?" asked Banneker, always interested in any new view. "Well, your market page ain't no scream. You gotta admit it." "People don't usually want to laugh when they're studying the stock market," growled Edmonds. "Surprise 'em, then. Give 'em a jab in the ribs and see how they like it. Pictures. Real comics. Anywhere in the paper that there's room for 'em." "There's always a cartoon on the editorial page," pointed out Banneker. "Cartoon? What does that get you? A cartoon's an editorial, ain't it?" Russell Edmonds shot a side glance at Banneker, meaning: "This is no fool. Watch him." "Makes 'em think, don't it?" pursued the visitor. "If it tickles 'em, that's on the side. It gets after their minds, makes 'em work for what they get. That's an effort. See?" "All right. What's your aim?" "Not their brains. I leave that to Mr. Banneker's editorials. I'm after the laugh that starts down here." He laid hand upon his rotund waistcoat. "The belly-laugh." "The anatomy of anti-melancholy," murmured Severance. "Valuable." "You're right, it's valuable," declared its proponent. "It's money; that's what it is. Watch 'em at the movies. When their bellies begin to shake, the picture's got 'em." "How would you produce this desirable effect?" asked Severance. "No trouble to show goods. I'm dealing with gents, I know. This is all under your shirt for the present, if you don't take up the scheme." From a portfolio which he had set in a corner he produced a sheaf of drawings. They depicted the adventures, mischievous, predatory, or criminal, of a pair of young hopefuls whose physiognomies and postures were genuinely ludicrous. "Did you draw these?" asked Banneker in surprise, for the draughtsmanship was expert. "No. Hired a kid artist to do 'em. I furnished the idea." "Oh, you furnished the idea, did you?" queried Edmonds. "And where did you get it?" With an ineffably satisfied air, Mr. Sheffer tapped his bullet head. "You must be older than you look, then. Those figures of the kids are redrawn from a last-century German humorous classic, 'Max und Moritz.' I used to be crazy over it when I was a youngster. My grandfather brought it to me from Europe, and made a translation for us youngsters." "Sure! Those pictures'd make a reformer laugh. I picked up the book in German on an Ann Street sidewalk stand, caught the Big Idea right then and there; to Americanize the stuff and--" "For 'Americanize,' read 'steal,'" commented Edmonds. "There ain't no thin' crooked in this," protested the other with sincerity. "The stuff ain't copyrighted here. I looked that up particularly." "Quite true, I believe," confirmed Severance. "It's an open field."